


Dreams/Terrors

by OopsFanfiction



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, I am so sorry for all this nonsense, Romance, You decide the ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6181681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OopsFanfiction/pseuds/OopsFanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bounty hunter manages to con her way into the Jedi Master's affections.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams/Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! 
> 
> This was a storyline that wouldn't leave me alone but I just couldn't see it working in a full-length fic.  
> So, I wrote this. And I want you to let me know how you want to see it end!

“I’m unable to talk about Jedi matters, I apologize…I apologize that I’m not at liberty to discuss that…” Obi-Wan said it over and over again, trying to psych himself up for deflecting prying questions.

“You’re talking to yourself again,” Anakin said with a chuckle as he walked into Obi-Wan’s quarters.

Obi-Wan chuckled and shook his head. “I have been caught. Are you ready?” They were to attend the celebration on Naboo commemorating the defeat of the Trade Federation.

Anakin nodded and straightened his robes before tugging on his padawan braid. He had just started his eighteenth year and was progressing through the padawan training with ease, for the most part.

Obi-Wan sensed his apprentice’s nervousness and put a hand on his shoulder. “What troubles you?”

“Do you think Padmé will be there?”

Obi-Wan resisted a smile. Anakin’s feelings for the former Queen of Naboo had not been masked. “I’m afraid the Senator is on Coruscant.”

Anakin’s shoulders slumped slightly before he recovered. “Of course, she must be busy.”

Obi-Wan simply nodded and they walked to the waiting starship bound for Theed.

When they arrived, Theed was filled with thousands of people. Colors abounded in every corner of the capital as the celebrations continued. The two Jedi were to be guests of honor at the Royal Palace which was hosting a ball later that night. Other dignitaries were to be in attendance and it was finally a year when Obi-Wan could attend. The past years he had been out on missions or immersed in a part of training with Anakin which could not be halted.

They were greeted on the tarmac by one of the Queen’s handmaidens who brought them to their personal quarters within the palace. In soft tones, the handmaiden described the night’s festivities and told them when to be here or there. Obi-Wan thanked her before she walked away. The room he had been given was large and spacious, draped in sumptuous maroon fabrics. It was across the hall from Anakin’s room.

Time passed quickly and he soon found himself standing in the ornate ballroom of the Palace, looking quite different from other attendees. While he was dressed in his usual Jedi robes, all others had donned lavish gowns and robes, fitting of the location.

“Kenobi, Skywalker, I am so pleased to have you here,” the Queen said as they were ushered in front of her throne by another handmaiden.

Both men bowed. “We are glad to finally be able to attend, your highness. Thank you for extending an invitation to us.”

The Queen smiled, stretching her red and white lips to reveal perfect teeth. “You are always welcome here. We would not have prevailed if it hadn’t been for your heroics. We are eternally in your debt. Please, if either of you need anything at all, let me or my handmaidens know. There is no request too small or large.”

Obi-Wan bowed slightly again before elbowing Anakin to follow suit. “Thank you, your highness.”

Anakin soon wandered off to find food and Obi-Wan happily accepted a flute of Naboo wine from a waiter.

“Kenobi,” a husky voice sounded beside him, “I was wondering when I was going to see your ridiculous mustache again.”

Obi-Wan turned to see a familiar face. Her reddish-brown hair was curled and flowers were littered throughout. She was encased in a dark purple gown which had jewels sewn onto it from her hips to her neck. Dark makeup only made her green eyes more vibrant. She certainly didn’t look like a bounty hunter right now.

“I should alert the Royal Guards that we have an uninvited guest,” he retorted. Naboo had a strict no-bounty law.

She simply laughed and plucked her own flute of wine off of a passing tray and lifted it to her lips before responding. “I was invited. Just as you were.”

“Oh really?” He started to fight a smile.

She hummed behind her glass. “Yes. The Naboo Royal Court happens to like those who save them.”

“It’s not in the bounty hunter’s nature to save.”

She laughed again. “I was off duty when one of the Queen’s advisors took a trip to Coruscant. Another hunter mistakenly identified him as their target. I intervened, righted the confusion, saved the Senate from a nasty argument. And here I am: an esteemed guest.” She arched an eyebrow as if asking Kenobi to challenge her story.

Obi-Wan took another gulp of his wine. “The hunter must have been very stupid.”

She laughed again, she was fond of laughing. “He is and new. A deadly combination.” She threw back the rest of the wine with a flourish just as Anakin approached.

“What are you doing here?” He seethed.

“I was invited,” she retorted. “Just as I was telling your master, here. I see your temper is still running rampant, little Skywalker.”

Anakin took a step forward only for the Master Jedi to put a hand on his chest. “Calm yourself, Anakin. She has done nothing wrong tonight.”

“She nearly killed us on Taris!”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“You shot at us.”

“Correction, I shot _over_ you. My target was behind you. It isn’t my fault you jump every time a blaster goes off. You should be a bit calmer. Meditate more, little Skywalker.”

Anakin opened his mouth to respond but quickly shut it as Sio Bibble, the white-haired Governor of Naboo who was one of the Queen’s most trusted advisors, approached them. “Ah, three people to whom I owe my life, all in one place. I cannot thank you enough.” It was obvious he’d had quite a bit to drink by the way he slightly swayed on his feet. “Has Miss Evas told you about her valiant act which saved me from a deadly case of mistaken identity?”

She stepped up to the Governor’s side with another smile. “I have. The Jedi agree, I was quite gallant. Would you like to dance, Governor?”

“Of course. I’d love to.” The older man escorted the woman out onto the dance floor as she shot a look over her shoulder, something strange in her dark eyes.

“I can’t believe they let her in,” Anakin seethed. “She is nothing but a money-grabbing rathtar.”

“Reeve Evas is a strange woman, Anakin. But I do doubt she is as bloodthirsty as she is in your mind.”

True, Reeve Evas had a reputation for being lethal and always getting her targets and sometimes that put her in conflict with the Jedi but there was something about her which kept her apart from the usual lot of bounty hunters.

“That woman is evil,” Anakin said.

“She is not that much different from you, Anakin. I’ve been told she is from Tatooine as well, and about your age, but I do believe her way off planet was much different than yours.”

“Please, Master, do not compare me to her. I feel insulted.”

Obi-Wan just chuckled and finished his wine, watching the young woman dance with the governor across the ballroom. He remembered the skirmish on Taris, how he and Anakin nearly had knocked their heads together to avoid Reeve’s shot but she darted past them to grab the still-flailing body of her target, ignoring their outraged calls. Anakin chased after her but she was very good at disappearing in the crowd, even while dragging a body along with her. Another time, when Anakin had been left at the Jedi Temple to study, Obi-Wan had been sent to Bespin to investigate the reports of a separatist stronghold (it turned out to be nothing but a rumor) and he’d quite literally run into Reeve. Instead of tumbling into a tangle of limbs in the middle of the walkway, she pulled them both into an open door and quickly closed it. The room turned out to be a vacant meeting space.

_“Do you have a habit of being in the absolute worst place at the worst time?” She hissed. “What are you doing here?”_

_“My job. What are you doing here?”_

_“ **My** job. And, once again, you’ve nearly ruined it.”_

_“What? How?”_

_“By existing, Jedi Knight. And-” she cut herself off when there was a rumble, like ten people running by the door. “Well, there’s my cue.” Without warning, she had pressed her lips to his cheek and ran out of the door with a shout of, “that’s a ridiculous mustache!”_

Their impromptu meetings happened a few times more, each on a different planet, and each with their own squabbles. And every one ended with a quip about his mustache.

He supposed it was a strange kinship he’d found in her. He wasn’t entirely sure if it could be called friendship when she was running around and capturing and/or killing people as a career and he rarely saw her but…there was still a strange fondness he held for her.

The night continued smoothly with both Obi-Wan and Anakin trading pleasantries with other guests. Anakin managed to steal the spot light and charm most with stories of his adventures. Obi-Wan enjoyed the food and more wine, silently thankful for this small, short reprieve from his Jedi duties.

Reeve danced with a few more people, making them laugh with well-placed jokes and innuendos. She was a graceful dancer, he supposed as he popped another morsel into his mouth.

The night was drawing closer to midnight and he wondered if it would be impolite to sneak out and go to sleep. But, Reeve appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, as he approached the ballroom doors.

“Retiring early?” She asked.

“It has been an exhausting event.”

She nodded. “Being on my best behavior is quite draining.” A sigh escaped her as she leaned against a marble pillar. “Goodnight, Kenobi.” She started to walk away.

“Miss Evas,” Kenobi heard himself calling out. He instantly blamed it on his lack of sleep.

Reeve turned back, her head tilted and letting her auburn curls slide over her pale skin. “Yes?”

“Would you care to dance?”

She smiled and sidled back up to him. “Are Jedi allowed to dance?”

A smile pulled at his lips at the sound of her light teasing. “Yes, and I think we’re quite skilled.”

She laughed. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

He held out a hand and her smaller one gently grasped it. Her skin was soft, strangely soft for one with a job like hers. A few other attendees looked at them as they took the dance floor but most were too absorbed in themselves and their conversations to notice.

The music slowed and he pulled her close enough to place his hand on her hip and she put one on his shoulder. It was a simple four-step dance which most considered romantic.

“I’ve heard whispers, Kenobi.”

“Oh?”

“Of a certain duchess stealing your affections.”

“I didn’t know Bounty Hunters listened to whispers.” Thoughts of the blonde duchess flittered across the Jedi’s mind for a moment. Yes, they were true. Satine had captured his attention and managed to pry her way into his heart since he was a padawan training under Qui-Gon. They had shared less than a kiss but he did often think of her when sleep evaded him late at night. But, then again, his thoughts sometimes slid to Reeve.

“We depend on whispers, deal in secrets. I wouldn’t be as respected in my field if I ignored hushed words and stolen glances.” Her small hand gripped his tighter as she sighed. “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“It seems like such a lonely existence. Surrounded by people but unable to feel.”

He looked at her and sensed no hidden meaning or malice in her words. It was a strange thing, a bounty hunter being genuine. “The same must be said for you, Miss Evas. I highly doubt your occupation affords you many chances to form bonds. So, you are the same as me.”

She smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We are two lonely people, aren’t we, Obi-Wan?”

His first name sounded strange on her tongue. “Perhaps.”

Reeve sighed and moved closer to him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. He found himself adjusting his hold to better accommodate her new position, letting his hand slide around her back and pulling their joined hands closer. She smelled of flowers and perfumed oil and he found himself closing his eyes, as if that would help him memorize the scent. Their feet no longer carried the measured steps of the dance and they simply swayed, sometimes stepping to the side to retain a semblance of the abandoned dance. It was easy, gentle.

“I’m so lonely,” she whispered and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it. The song eventually ended and Reeve took a step back, sliding away from him with practiced grace. There was a sadness in her eyes he hadn’t seen ever before. “Thank you for the dance. You have proven that Jedis do indeed have skill on the dance floor.” She curtseyed lightly before turning and walking away, all without looking back.

**

The next few months passed without contact with Reeve. And Obi-Wan hated to admit it, he often found himself wondering if she was alright. Surely he would have heard if she had been killed—right?

Obi-Wan received his answer when he visited the Jedi Archives to try to find Kamino.

“You still have that terrible mustache,” came a voice from behind him as he exited the Temple.

He turned, fighting a smile, to see her leaning against the light colored stone of the building. She wasn’t dressed in her bounty hunter garb, instead she was draped in gray pants and matching tunic with her auburn hair loose about her face in messy waves. Two small blasters were tucked into a belt at her hips, barely concealed by her tunic. “I like my mustache.”

She laughed and stood straight. “I heard you’re looking for someone.”

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And when did you hear this?”

“A few days ago. Something about an assassination attempt on a Naboo senator.” She crossed her arms and stepped closer to him. The light in her green eyes was almost terrifying. “He’s dangerous, Kenobi.”

“Who is?” he asked.

She shook her head and lowered her voice to a whisper. “He’s the only man who I wouldn’t want to cross. And if he finds out I gave you his name, he will know.” She straightened her shoulders. “You’re like a dog with a bone so I know you won’t let this go, just know he is the best of the best and he will make you disappear if he thinks you’re interfering.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Are you frightened for me?”

Reeve scowled. “Why are you surprised?” She waved off his answer as he started to open his mouth. “Forget it. Don’t get yourself killed, Kenobi.” She walked away, disappearing into the crowd once again.

**

The Clone Wars had begun and Obi-Wan found himself once again confronted with Duchess Satine. She was as lovely as ever and just as interesting and staunch in her beliefs for a neutral Mandalore.

It had been easy for the Jedi to feel those sentiments of compassion and fondness come back. But, he knew the Jedi Code and he repressed them, feeling more and more on edge with each passing glance she gave him and each soft touch that seemed to linger.

His days belonged to Satine.

His nights, however, seemed to belong to Reeve.

Dreams and night terrors surrounded her almost every night. Obi-Wan watched her laugh, smile. There was a kindness in her eyes he hadn’t actually witnessed. But it was directed toward him in each of his dreams. He felt the phantom touch of her hand against his cheek and her lips against his. But then he also saw her, lifeless and bloody, in the sand. Her green eyes were unseeing and blank. And other times, he caught her in his arms as blood started to bubble in her mouth. _“I’m sorry…”_ she would say. _“I’m sorry…”_

He hadn’t heard of how she fared and it wasn’t as if he could just ask. Why would a Jedi be asking about a Bounty Hunter? Especially one as notorious as Reeve Evas.

When he had been forced to fake his death to go undercover as a bounty hunter to uncover a plot to kidnap Palpatine, Obi-Wan found it easier to find information on her despite knowing he shouldn’t even care.

“She’s a bit soft on a Jedi,” Bane, one of his new-identity’s acquaintances said. “Such a pity.”

“Why?” he found himself asking.

Bane scoffed. “Why should she waste emotion on someone like that? A pathetic lifeform. I heard she even attended that scum’s funeral, lurking toward the back of the crowd.” Bane chuckled to himself. “Maybe she’s lost it.”

And when his alter ego was summoned to Serenno by Count Dooku, he half hoped that she would be there. But she wasn’t. One other bounty hunter informed him that she had ignored the call despite the promise of a large sum if they could pass the tests Dooku presented.

“I think the rumors are true—she’s gone soft,” the hunter whispered.

But he couldn’t think of her as his cover pushed him farther into the plot and farther into danger.

Soon, the plot was foiled and Obi-Wan was allowed to rejoin the Jedi Order. While Anakin was absolutely beside himself when he found out about the deception, Obi-Wan almost found Reeve’s reaction to be over the top.

Out of nowhere, while he was taking a late-night stroll around the temple to clear his head, she appeared and slapped him so hard he lost his footing.

Her eyes were alight with anger as she looked down at him. Her hunter helmet was in her other hand. “What the hell?” He could have sworn he saw her eye twitch. “I **mourned** you!” She let out in a hiss. “I mourned you and you were alive the whole time.” A single tear tracked down her freckled cheek.

Obi-Wan just stared up at her, the soft light of the hallway casting shadows across her face. “I was doing my job.”

Reeve just turned to leave and didn’t look back.

**

The dreams and night terrors involving Reeve were halted only momentarily and it was because his dreams were now filled with Satine’s face and the pressure he felt in his arms when she had died after confessing her love.

The duchess had died in his arms and Obi-Wan had felt a bit of himself die as well. There was the smallest hollow ache inside of him now. But he pushed on, letting his duties as a Jedi carry him forward.

But the ache still remained.

And then the dreams of Reeve returned.

The battle with the Separatists continued but Obi-Wan couldn’t shake the feeling of darkness creeping up on him. Something terrible was going to happen.

And he was right.

Order 66 annihilated almost the entire Jedi Order and Obi-Wan watched democracy die as he held the Skywalker twins in his arms.

While Bail Organa took little Leia, Yoda tasked Obi-Wan with delivering Luke to his distant relatives on Tatooine.

What he didn’t expect, however, was Reeve to be waiting for him outside the Lars homestead. She was clad in her bounty hunter garb and her arms were crossed over her chest.

Obi-Wan instantly called his lightsaber to him and ignited it. “What are you doing here?”

She reached up and removed her black helmet. “There’s a bounty on your head.”

“Are you here to collect?” he gripped his lightsaber tighter and felt his heart race. Would she try to kill him?

“I’m here to protect you, dumbass. Put your lightsaber away.”

Obi-Wan stared at her for a moment, trying to sense any deception in her but found none and silently followed her to her small starship. When they boarded, she threw new clothes at him.

“Change. Everyone will know you’re a Jedi if you wander around in those robes.” Reeve climbed into the captain’s chair and fired up the engines as Obi-Wan slowly pulled on his new clothes.

He was on autopilot the entire time. The hollow ache he had felt when he left Anakin on Mustafar was now engulfing him, leaving him a shell.

And here was Reeve, saying she wanted to protect him.

The starship landed quickly near the city of Bestine. It was considered the jewel of Tatooine and the most metropolitan of the cities on the planet, which, to be fair, wasn’t anything to brag about. In front of him was a large, adobe-style building which seemed to fit right in with the rest of the planet. It was secluded from the city which Obi-Wan could just see over the sharp rocks of the surrounding dunes. Reeve unlocked the front door and ushered him inside.

The home itself was large and simply furnished. There were no traces of personality within its walls, however. It was as if it was staged.

“What is this place?”

“I live here…in between jobs.” Reeve sealed the door and then jabbed a code into a nearby data code and Obi-Wan heard what sounded like locks being engaged all over the home. “It’s safe. No one comes out here.”

“Why?”

“I’m not exactly the type of person people want as a neighbor, Kenobi.” She waved him forward and showed him the guest room. “I’ll bring in more clothes tomorrow. Please, get some sleep. It looks like you’re about to drop.”

Obi-Wan just nodded, feeling the wariness he had been running from finally start to seep into his bones.

Reeve started to shut the door.

“Reeve?”

She stopped and poked her head back in.

“Why are you doing this?”

A bitter smile touched her lips. “Believe it or not, I like keeping you alive.” And with that, she shut the door.

Reeve did as she was promised and brought more clothes for him in the morning. She had left them in a neat stack in front of his door along with a hand-drawn map of the house so he could find everything he needed.

But the Jedi Master found himself unable to move. It was as if the weight of the galaxy was crushing him into the plush mattress. Tears finally started to fall and his shoulders shook with great, heaving sobs. Shouts of despair ran through him as flashes of his battle with Anakin and the destruction of Order 66 rushed through his mind.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he lay there, staring at the tan ceiling of the room through tears but his throat grew hoarse and his limbs ached.

When the suns finally set, he was vaguely aware of the sound of a door opening. A soothing but cracked presence washed over him and Obi-Wan realized that he had never actually felt Reeve. She had been hiding it from him, unconsciously or not, until now as they hid her home.

She knocked on the door to his room quietly but slid in when he didn’t answer.

Moving slowly, she sat down at the corner of his bed. A bottle of strong liquor was in one hand and two glasses in the other. Without saying a word, she poured the liquid into the glasses and set his on the nightstand next to his head. She didn’t look at him as she threw back the entirety of her glass before pouring herself another.

“They’re building him a nursery,” Reeve said quietly.

“Who?” The single syllable felt like swallowing sand.

“The Lars couple. They’re fixing up one of their rooms to be a nursery for the Skywalker boy.” She took another gulp. “That boy will be loved.” A small smile pushed up her lips as she pressed the glass to her cheek to cool her skin. She stood suddenly and left the rest of the bottle next to his untouched glass. “Goodnight, Obi-Wan.”

That was their routine for almost a month. She would return from either a job or an outing with a new snippet of information on Luke. And soon news of little Leia accompanied each new bottle of liquor she left for him—and he never seemed to recall draining the one before. Her droid would bring in meals which he would barely touch and provide him with new sheets and towels for when he actually left the bed. He listened to the news through the walls as she had it projected the next room over. The Galaxy was now being ruled by the Empire. Palpatine had won. The Jedi were labeled as traitors and very large bounties were placed on their heads.

The galaxy and republic Kenobi had fought for was gone, over. There was no going back.

He thought back to all the warning signs which now seemed glaring obvious. But he also thought of the short comings of the Jedi.

Maybe, if they had just let Anakin become a Master…or freely love Padmé without restraint or secrecy…

Finally, Obi-Wan pulled himself out of the room after showering. The ache remained and the beat of his heart seemed to echo.

Reeve hadn’t yet returned and he settled into the living room and turned on the holoprojector. Instantly, he was bombarded with news about the rise of the Empire. Images of the emperor were projected along with stories about Mace Windu’s “betrayal” but then he saw him.

Darth Vader.

Even when he was encased in the new machinery and helmet, Obi-Wan knew…he knew it was Anakin.

Almost in a rage, Obi-Wan found himself destroying anything his hands could touch.

When her living room was in shambles, Reeve finally came home.

Her green eyes scanned the still-smoking lounges to the splintered and sparking projector before landing on Obi-Wan who had huddled himself into a corner. His shoulders once again shook with sobs.

He knew she was being cautious as she tossed her blaster and pack away from him before approaching.

“Kenobi,” her voice was soft.

The projector sprang to life for a moment, stuttering out, _“the empire, the empire, the empire,”_ before she crushed the rest of it under her boot.

“Kenobi,” she repeated.

He listened to her approach in soft, calculated steps, before kneeling in front of him. “Leave me be.”

“No.”

“I said, leave me be.”

“I’ve been leaving you be and that obviously isn’t helping.” There was a bit of a bite in her tone but no malice. No anger. Gently, her hands touched his arms before sliding up to touch his cheeks, bringing up his face so she could look at him.

He found that her touch in real life was much warmer than it had been in his dreams and memories. And he could count the freckles on her nose with her so close. “What do you want?”

“To protect you. I told you that.” She stood and grabbed his hands again and attempted to pull him to his feet. He begrudgingly stood when she continued to tug at his fingers. “There we go,” she whispered.

“I can’t stay here forever,” he said as she started leading him back to his room. They dodged her droid who was carrying his dirty sheets away.

“I know,” Reeve said without looking back. “But for now, you need to stay hidden. You want to protect the Skywalker boy. You can’t do that if you’re dead. So, please, just bide your time.” With an almost practiced grace, she guided him to the bed. She went to his bathroom for a moment before returning with a bowl and cloth and she wiped his face clean from the soot and blood he had accumulated during his destruction.

“I know practically nothing about you,” he said as she gave another bitter smile.

“What’s there to know? My parents were slaves on Tatooine. I escaped and became a bounty hunter. End of story.” She plopped the wet cloth back into the bowl and looked at him before pushing back a bit of his hair from his forehead. “I know you already know that.”

“Why did you escape?”

“No one is born to be a slave, Kenobi. It’s natural to want to escape.”

He just stared at her needing answers. Anything would do if it distracted him.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Even when you’re near catatonic, you still manage to weasel answers out of me. When I was thirteen, my father tried to buy our freedom. He gambled and lost. But he failed to mention that he had bet my life as part of the wager and one of the terms was, that if he lost, I was no longer under his protection and that our master, Heson Barea, would be free to sell me as he saw fit. Well, as I said, he lost. And in the middle of the night, I was snatched from my bed and given to Wes Gunndo.” Her face went stony as she continued. “He was a notorious Sex Trader. My mother had always warned me to stay away from him when we were sent to market for Barea. But here I was, now in his possession. I was terrified. I didn’t want to be subjected to…whatever his clients wanted. But, Wes had always wanted to inspect his merchandise before putting it up on the block so, my first night under his ownership, he came to me. I could smell the drug—Ryll—on him. It made him sluggish and handsy. And I took the chance. I snapped his neck and emptied his accounts and left. The implant under my skin had been deactivated when I had been sold to Gunndo—he didn’t like his merchandise exploding when a client wanted to take a girl or two out for a ‘weekend getaway.’ I guess I was lucky.” She picked at something under her blunt nails. “Apparently, someone had put a bounty on Wes’ head and I collected.” Reeve shrugged.

“And what of your parents?”

“Oh, Barea killed them when he’d heard what I’d done. He thought it would prevent me from coming after him, a show of strength. But he was very easy to kill. And I did that one for free. With nothing to come home to, I just kept seeking bounties. And it paid very well,” she said as she waved a hand around the room.

Obi-Wan’s roughened fingers slid over the back of her hand, a calming gesture. Qui-Gon had used it on him during his first fit of nightmares after their first dangerous mission. And he had used it on Anakin when he was still a young Padawan.

“But I feel no anger in you,” he said, almost to himself.

“Because I’m not angry,” Reeve answered. “I could be and I have been. But I haven’t felt anything for a very long time.” She turned to give him a tight lipped smile.

“You told me you were lonely once.” His fingers continued his ministrations against her pale skin.

“Loneliness isn’t a feeling to me. It’s a way of life.” She sighed and turned her hand to curl her fingers around his. “I don’t like burdening you with my pitiful story.”

“It isn’t a burden. I simply like to know the woman who is trying to protect me.”

And that is how they spent the night, trading stories of their vastly different upbringings until the morning light started to filter through the window. Reeve fell asleep against his chest as his arms loosely kept her in place.

For the first time since the rise of the Empire, Obi-Wan slept peacefully.

From then on, he found himself slipping into her room or her into his when the moons rose in the sky. It was an almost gravitational pull they felt toward one another. They were seeking peace in each other’s arms.

But time passed and Obi-Wan knew it would look suspicious if Reeve continued to bypass larger bounties for ones that kept her close to home. If there had been whispers before about her being “soft” for a Jedi, surely someone would connect the dots.

“I need to hide somewhere else,” he whispered to her in the dark of her room one night.

“I’ve found you a spot,” she whispered back, drowsily. “I’ll show it to you tomorrow.”

Obi-Wan found himself smiling at this. Of course she had found a spot—she was probably just waiting for him to catch up.

The next morning, he wore a scarf around his face as they climbed onto her speeder and she led him across Jundland Wastes. They were both quiet as the sand and dunes rushed by them. It was easy, almost soothing, even as the task at hand loomed over them.

Eventually, they slowed to a stop in front of an abandoned moisture farm and got off the speeder. Reeve’s blasters were in her hands before they even reached the door and she shouldered her way in with Obi-Wan following behind. After deeming it clear, she let Obi-Wan wander around, scoping out the place for himself.

“How’d you find this?” He asked, letting his fingers trail across the adobe walls.

“My last job, I had to chase someone through the wastes. He tried to hide in here.” She shrugged. “It didn’t work.”

“Does anyone else know about this place?”

“Not that I know of. I’ve asked. It’s been abandoned for a while.”

“Perfect.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at her and she was staring at him, her eyes guarded. “I’ll help you get supplies,” she added quickly. “Tatooine can be cruel if you aren’t prepared.”

**

The moisture farm was soon settled and Reeve could only meet him under the cover of darkness and her visits were few and far between as she once again travelled farther and farther into the galaxy for bounties. Sometimes she would only come to sleep next to him and disappear before he woke the next morning.

The dreams persisted. As did the night terrors. He saw her kissing him. He saw her bleeding out. He saw her writhe beneath him in ecstasy. He saw her choke on her own blood. 

He saw her live. He saw her die.

And he wasn’t entirely sure if any of it would come true. But he often wondered if her lips were as soft as they were in his dreams, or if her moans were as melodic, or if she could scratch at his skin with as much wild abandon as she did in his mind.

One morning, he felt her stir against him and then slowly pull away. Before she could properly escape his sleep-laden grasp, he tightened his hold around her waist.

The Jedi were gone.

The Code was no more.

And he could find peace in this woman’s arms.

Reeve turned in his arms to face him, a question bubbling in her throat before he pressed his lips to hers. Shocks ran down his spine and flittered out to his fingers as he grasped the back of her neck, holding her in place. Her lips were soft and she grasped at his auburn hair as she licked into his mouth. Little gasps escaped her between kisses as hands wandered and explored. Clothing was shed and he found that his dreams were true: her moans were like music and she clung to him like her life depended on it.

But as he reached his own ecstasy, Obi-Wan realized two things: the dreams never felt this perfect and if those dreams were real, the terrors must be too.

**Author's Note:**

> So...what do you think?
> 
> Do you want me to write a happy ending or do you want me to keep it canon? 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
